


stop at red, kiss till green

by ohallows



Series: femslash week 2020 [3]
Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Family, Femslash, Fluff, Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:07:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23295982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohallows/pseuds/ohallows
Summary: Three times Bette and Cleo almost kissed, and one time they actually did.
Relationships: Betty | Bette/Cleo (Rusty Quill Gaming)
Series: femslash week 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1672582
Comments: 8
Kudos: 14
Collections: RQG Femslash Week 2020





	stop at red, kiss till green

**Author's Note:**

> day 3!!!! missed opportunities

Cleo always wakes up earlier than Bette. She’s not sure why, exactly, especially since she never thought she was particularly a morning person, but Bette could happily sleep into noon. Cleo, for the most part, gets up a few hours earlier, cooks breakfast, gets Sam up if they have somewhere to be… it’s a good routine, and one she enjoys. Sometimes, though - sometimes she’s just able to lay there with Bette, listen to her heartbeat, wrap their fingers together, and just breathe. 

Sometimes, Bette wakes up early too, and the two of them have a few precious hours to spend together, uninterrupted. 

These are Cleo’s favorite mornings. 

“No - Bette -“ Cleo laughs, but Bette just rolls the both of them over, legs forcing Cleo onto her back. She lets Bette pin her, happy to lose this particular battle, and Bette smiles down at her triumphantly. 

She leans down and presses a kiss to Cleo’s cheek, whispering a quiet, “I win,” as she sits up, sitting across Cleo’s thighs.

“You missed,” Cleo said, teasing, and Bette smirks. 

“Did I?” she asks, ever the flirt, and Cleo puckers up. Bette leans forward again, kissing her temple. “Was that what you meant?”

Cleo shakes her head fondly, happy enough to play along. “No, that’s - still not what I was looking for, I’m afraid. Try again?”

Bette rolls her eyes good-naturedly, and leans down, this time pressing a kiss to Cleo’s jaw. “That  _ must _ have been it, yes?” she asks, and Cleo finally gives up the ghost, shaking her head sadly and pointing to her lips. “Oh, of  _ course,  _ how foolish of me.”

She leans down a bit closer until they’re nearly less than an inch apart, breaths lingering in the space between them. Cleo can nearly feel Bette’s lips on hers, and gently rests her hands on Bette’s hips. Her eyes slip closed as Bette gets even closer. 

There’s a thud on their door and it swings open, frenzied barking filling the room as Knucker leaps onto their bed. She knocks into Bette, nearly pushing her off Cleo, and then slides off the other side of the bed, still barking away. Her tail wags as she looks up and Bette and Cleo both groan. 

“Knucker!” Bette scolds, sliding off of Cleo and making a grab for her collar. Knucker barks, excited, and dodges away from Bette’s hand. “This isn’t playtime!” 

Knucker either isn’t listening or doesn’t catch the tone in her voice, bounding away as her tail wags excitedly. Bette scrambles over the bed but Knucker just runs back around, barking and jumping around. 

Bette makes a final lunge, but Knucker leaps away again, before running out of the room. Cleo can’t help it; she just lets herself fall back down to the bed, laughing, as Bette chases Knucker down. 

—

“Bette, I really need to finish cooking,” Cleo says, but she’s not putting up that much of a fight as Bette presses another kiss to the back of her neck, hands tightening where they rest on Cleo’s hips. “ _ Bette.” _

“It’ll be fine,” Bette murmurs, pulling Cleo closer to her as her hands creep across her abdomen. Cleo moves them to the side, away from the hot stove, and leans against the counter, turning so that she’s facing Bette.

“Hi,” she says, smiling, and Bette smiles back, taking Cleo’s hands in hers. 

“Hi,” she says, flirtatious wink and all, and Cleo laughs, pulling Bette’s hands toward her to press a kiss to her knuckles. “Give us a proper kiss?”

Cleo shakes her head, but acquiesces. She runs thumb across Bette’s cheekbone and then her hand continues, trailing down Bette’s neck and across her collarbone until it’s resting on the back of her neck. Cleo pulls her closer gently, until their foreheads are resting together. “Technically, the phrase is ‘kiss the cook’”, not the other way around,” she murmurs, and Bette smirks. 

“Fine,” she says, and cups Cleo’s face in her hands. “If I  _ must.” _

Bette’s lips are millimetres from her own when the smoke alarm starts blaring, ringing through their flat as Cleo and Bette both jump. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Cleo says, turning around only to see smoke rising from the pot on the stovetop. She reaches forward and turns the heat off, grabbing the pot and moving it to a different spot on the stove. “ _ Shite.”  _

Bette’s already dealing with the smoke detector, thank  _ god,  _ but then Sam comes running out of their room, holding Knucker and looking around wildly. 

“What - what’s going on?” they gasp out, and Knucker looks seriously unimpressed as Sam nearly drops her in their frantic rush. 

“It’s fine!” Bette calls from the hallway, precariously perched on a small step ladder as she pokes and prods at the smoke alarm. It continues blaring as she hits it, and Sam eventually drops Knucker to the floor (carefully, of course), clapping their hands over their ears. “Almost got it!” 

The smoke alarm unlatches and finally the beeps fade away into silence, Bette standing there triumphantly as she holds it above her head. Sam pulls their hands away from their ears and looks around the kitchen. 

“Oh,” Sam says, perking up as they notice the pot in Cleo’s hand. There’s less smoke than before, but it’s still clearly not going to be edible anymore. “Is it dinner time yet?” 

Cleo gives them a look, tilting the pot so that they can see the burned remains of what was  _ going  _ to be their dinner. Sam frowns and backs up, hopping onto the counter. They pull open a cabinet next to their legs and grabs out a stack of menus. 

“Takeaway?” they ask, holding them out to Cleo. She looks over at Bette, who shrugs. Cleo nods, and Sam whoops, shuffling through them. “Any objections to Somali?”

Both Cleo and Bette shake their heads - actually, that sounds  _ incredible  _ to Cleo, and she doesn’t just think it’s because of how much her stomach is rumbling. 

“You have to call,” Cleo says, and Bette pulls a face but doesn’t argue. Considering it’s - well, okay, Cleo should have been paying better attention, but Bette was the one who distracted her  _ first _ . 

Bette heads off to make the call while Sam hops off the counter to play with Knucker on the floor, and Cleo gets to cleaning the rest of the kitchen. 

It’s not a big deal, Cleo realizes, scraping off the charred bits of the pot into the bin. Sam’s always happy when they get to have takeaway and, well. Bette does look pretty when her arms are bracketing the space around Cleo. She blushes a bit, and finishes up scraping, setting the pot in some soapy water and rubbing her hands on a towel. 

Her and Bette can… well, they can resume that, er,  _ conversation _ later. For now, takeaway.

—

Their nighttime routine is the same as it has been for years. They both take their time getting ready for bed; Cleo takes a bit longer than Bette, which means that by the time she’s done, Bette’s already got whatever new book she’s reading out as she sits back against the headboard. Tonight, it seems to be a new Campbell novel. Cleo had never really gotten into them - a bit too flowery for her tastes - but she does enjoy Bette reading them to her. 

Cleo, on the other hand, has a crossword she needs to finish, and she sits down next to Bette, grabbing it off the table. The second she’s settled, Bette leans toward her, resting her head on Cleo’s shoulder. Cleo tilts her own head, pressing a kiss to the top of Bette’s head before letting her cheek rest against Bette’s hair. Bette continues reading while Cleo’s pen scratches against the paper; it’s a nice quiet nice for the two of them. 

Bette chooses to go to sleep first, stretching and yawning as she pulls away from Cleo. She takes off her reading glasses and gets another sip of water before turning her own light off. 

“Goodnight, Cleo,” Bette says, yawning tiredly as she finally settles down in the bed, covers pulled up to her chin. “I love you.”

“Good night, my love,” Cleo responds, and sets down the crossword on the bedside table. “I’ll see you in the morning.” She leans forward to give Bette a quick goodnight kiss, hand resting on her cheek, when the door slams open.

In the doorway, Sam yelps, and Cleo pulls away. “I didn’t see anything!” they yell, hands covering their eyes, slowly backing out of the room. 

“Sam, sweetie,  _ nothing was happening _ ,” Bette tries, running a hand down her face, but they’re already gone. She gives Cleo a look and slides off the bed. “I’m on it.”

Cleo laughs and lays back in bed as Bette goes off to talk to Sam. 

—

It’s a lovely night; the three of them (and Knucker) are all sitting around a bonfire on one of the last good nights of summer, and Bette is sitting half in Cleo’s lap as the fire slowly becomes nothing but embers. Sam is laying on their back, far enough away that the fire won’t crack and shoot an ember onto them, but close enough to feel the heat. 

“You look so pretty with fire dancing in your eyes,” Bette says, and shuffles around until she’s fully in Cleo’s lap, arms resting loosely over her shoulders. “You’re gorgeous.”

“ _ You’re  _ gorgeous,” Cleo says, and Bette just laughs. 

“Okay, we’re both gorgeous. An ideal situation.”

And then she kisses Cleo, and it feels just like coming home, just like it always does. Cleo laughs into the kiss as Bette wraps her arms around her neck, hand rubbing absently along her spine. 

“Oh,  _ gross!”  _ Sam says, and Cleo pulls away enough to see them pretending to retch and hiding their eyes. She rolls her eyes and sighs.

“Sam, one day, you’re going to find someone who you want to kiss too, and then it won’t be as gross!” she calls across the fire, and Sam sits up, skepticism in their eyes.

“I don’t think that’s a real thing,” they call over, but they sound less certain, and look at Bette to confirm. She just nods, solemnly, and Sam makes a frustrated noise before lying back down in the grass. 

Cleo can’t help it - she laughs, and Bette joins her, and then all three of them are laughing as the fire crackles in between them and as the stars shine brightly above. 

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on tumblr at ohallows!!! always happy to accept prompts !!


End file.
